


Should Call You That More Often

by SoftlyandSwiftly



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Sex, Top!Liam, bottom!Zayn, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 05:52:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4089382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftlyandSwiftly/pseuds/SoftlyandSwiftly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of a prompt sent to my tumblr: ever since zayn left 1d i've wanted a fic where liam and zayn try to make their relationship work even though they wont be seeing each other as much. skype dates and liam flying zayn out for a tour gig or liam flying home any break he gets to see zayn. for the smut, i imagine zayn being very desperate for liam, constantly wanting his cock and maybe jumping him as soon as he sees him, maybe liam's desperate to eat zayn out, open him up for his dick. ;)</p><p>(including a skype call, a phone call, and desperate, needy Zayn but sadly not any tour gigs)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Should Call You That More Often

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a lovely anon. I hope you like it! I think I included almost everything you mentioned.
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr: http://softlyandswiftlyao3.tumblr.com/
> 
> xxT

When Zayn’s computer rings, signaling an incoming skype call, he lunges for it so quickly, he nearly knocks it over. Waliyha snorts from the other end of the couch, and Zayn shoots her the finger without even looking up. His fingers shake as he presses the button to answer, and he sighs in pure relief when Liam’s face appears.

“Jaan,” Liam sighs the word out, like he’s just as relieved as Zayn, and it aches right against Zayn’s heart.

“Liam,” he knows his tone is damn near reverential, and Wali’s badly muffled giggle just confirms it. He kicks out at her without looking away from Liam’s grinning face, too enthralled by the wide grin taking over his fiancé’s face.

The word still sends a thrum of adoration through Zayn’s veins, and he doesn’t give a shit if Louis says they’ve been basically married for two years now so it shouldn’t matter. It’s different now that Zayn’s got a ring on his finger. Besides, Louis makes fun of them for everything, even the fact that Liam calls Zayn jaan (which is entirely Louis’s fault anyway because it had never crossed their minds until Louis had shown them those fan stories).

“I miss you babe,” Liam says, his grin never faltering even as his eyes skip over Zayn’s face, like he’s looking for differences, like he wants to memorize every little change that possibly could have occurred over the past two months. Zayn knows because he finds himself doing the same every time they do one of these skype calls.

“Christ, Li, me too,” Zayn mutters, almost wanting to reach out and touch the screen, but that’s a level of pathetic he’s not quite ready to commit to yet. He’s getting there though, can feel the need to touch Liam burning him as he takes in every detail. Liam’s clearly in his hotel room, the generic wall paper in the background a dead giveaway. He’s leaning against a few pillows, propped up in bed, shoes probably kicked off by the door like he always does. It makes Zayn ache to think about how empty that hotel room probably feels. They’d started sharing regularly before they’d even started dating, and he doesn’t know how Liam can stand the foreign sheets alone. Zayn’s struggling, and he’s in his own damn house.

“You two are idiots,” Wali calls out, just loud enough that Liam will definitely hear.

Zayn glares at his younger sister, seriously considering telling her to get lost even though he’s the one who begged her to come to his house because he felt lonely, but Liam just laughs.

“Wali?” he guesses.

“Yes,” Zayn glares at her harder when Waliyha just shoots him an innocent smile.

“I’m glad she’s there.”

Zayn looks back at Liam, raising an eyebrow. “Well that makes one of us.”

Wali lets out an indignant squawk, and Liam laughs again, warm like sunshine. “I’m serious. I’m glad you’re not alone.”

He’s so earnest as he says it, brown eyes serious, and Zayn fucking melts. He feels a goofy smile stretch over his lips, expression overly fond as he gazes at Liam, and it’s no surprise when Waliyha makes a gagging sound.

“Go away if it bothers you,” Zayn tells her without looking away from Liam again. He doesn’t look away even as she gets up and heads into the kitchen, muttering about stupid boys.

“How are you?” Liam asks, eyes going soft as Zayn slouches further into his couch.

He feels like he can finally relax, now that he’s seeing Liam’s face. It’s not quite the same as having Liam _here_ but it’s enough for now. It’s enough when the promise of seeing Liam in person dangles just on the horizon. Eleven more days dances like a mantra in the back of Zayn’s mind.

“I’m fine, Li,” Zayn replies, striving to keep his voice light. He is, really. He just misses Liam. Unsurprising really, considering that they’ve never been actively apart like this since they met.

“Yeah?”

“Promise. What about you?”

Liam shrugs, letting himself sink lower into his bed, like he can finally relax too. And Zayn wonders if Liam feels that tension in his shoulders too the way Zayn does, like he’s being pulled tight without Liam there to balance him out. “Fine. It’s... well it could be worse.”

Zayn frowns because he hates that. He hates that they’ve settled for could be worse when everything should be great. They shouldn’t have to do this anymore. The whole point of him leaving was so that they could be free. They, as in both of them. Sure, Zayn had personal reasons for going, but he was definitely motivated by a promise of having Liam permanently and publicly.

“Hey,” Liam calls softly, snagging Zayn’s attention back. “It’s fine. Only eleven more days yeah?”

“Yeah,” Zayn breathes out, letting his eyes close. He can picture Liam here so easily when he does this. If he just listens to Liam’s voice, he can pretend that Liam’s here, sprawled out on this couch with him as he’s been so many times before. He’d be wearing a worn, old shirt of Zayn’s, trackies that hang obscenely low on his hips, those stupid thick socks he likes even when it’s the dead of summer. Half of his shit would be thrown about the house because Zayn’s home is the only place Liam allows himself to be messy.

It hurts but only slightly now.

“Tell me about the new songs?” Zayn asks quietly. He’d been hesitant to ask at first, not sure if there was a line there that hadn’t existed before, especially after that small fight with Louis. But Liam’s made it more than clear that Zayn’s still a part of every aspect of his life, even the parts that Zayn decided he couldn’t handle himself anymore.

He can almost hear Liam smiling softly, settling further back into his bed. It’s so simple, what they do, but it means so much. Zayn keeps his eyes closed as Liam launches into a story about how Louis was sure they could write yet another song about sex and pass it off as innocent enough.

Liam laughs as he tells it, and Zayn feels himself smiling along, and it’s almost like how it used to be. As Zayn sinks further into his couch, he lets himself sink into Liam’s voice as well.

 ____

Three more days, and Zayn feels like he’s about to burst out of his skin. He hates himself for it too because this was completely his decision. He’s the one who left. He’s the one who quit. He’s the one who made the final decision.

And he knew what he was doing.

He doesn’t regret it, not really. He hated his job because it was just that – a job. It stopped being fun, started being all work, and Zayn’s never been someone who could force himself to do something he didn’t enjoy. So when the music stopped being enough, he knew he’d eventually end up here. It had happened sooner than he’d expected though, and he won’t even try to lie to himself about why.

Having a secret relationship tears you up inside in ways you don’t even know to expect, so there’s no way to prepare for it. Loving Liam has never felt like a mistake, but some days it felt like it was too much effort, and as soon as Zayn realized that, he knew that he was done. Losing his love for One Direction was manageable, but losing his love for Liam? Impossible. So he’d pulled Liam aside and whispered his dirtiest secret: he wanted out. Five days later, and it was done. He was no longer a member of One Direction, and he’d thought he knew exactly what that meant.

For the most part he had. The disappointed fans, the anger from his bandmates, the confusion from his family, he’d expected all that. What he hadn’t really expected, or perhaps just not understood, was how much he would miss Liam.

They’ve never had a normal relationship, and as much as that has to do with natural chemistry, it also has a lot to do with the way they got together. They went from friends to basically living together while dating in literally a day. There was never even an option of taking it slow, not that they would have. He and Liam felt eventual in a devastating way, inevitable like the sunset and just as bright and beautiful. Zayn wouldn’t trade a thing about their relationship, but he misses Liam.

Fuck but he misses him.

He hates to be a cliché, but it really is like missing a limb. He’s used to having Liam near, even when they’d been on break from touring. This separation, thousands of miles between them instead of hundreds, it almost hurts. It’s a foreign entity in their relationship, not a blockade but something like an unknown bridge. They’re still learning how to navigate it.

So with three days left, Zayn’s caving at two in the morning and calling Liam.

“Zayn,” Liam answers almost immediately, voice heavy with sleep.

“I want to see you.”

He hears Liam shift, rustling sheets in the background like he’s getting out of bed, and it’s another foreign hotel he’s in. “Three more days, babe,” Liam whispers.

Zayn wishes that was enough. The promise of Liam in just three days should be enough, but it isn’t. It isn’t when Zayn’s alone in his bed that smells like Liam because Zayn’s just pathetic enough to have used Liam’s detergent when he did the wash. It isn’t when Liam’s so close but so far, when he’s parading around daily with _someone else._ And Zayn knows, okay, he knows that Liam would never cheat on him, that it’s all for show, but it still rubs against his raw heart until he feels broken.

“I just miss you.” He whispers it back like a shameful secret because he is ashamed. He’s ashamed that he can’t seem to hold himself together, that he needs Liam this fucking much.

Liam’s breath hitches, like Zayn’s taken him by surprise, and maybe he has. Zayn’s not normally so forward with how he feels. He might wear his heart on his sleeve, but he has metal walls up around his emotions. It’s rare that he actually says what he’s feeling, actually admits a weakness.

And Liam is a weakness.

“Liam?” he asks the silence, eyes sliding shut as he buries himself further into his own bed, like he can hide between the sheets and Liam’s voice.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Zayn freezes, heart leaping immediately with joy. “What?”

Liam sounds nothing but determined when he repeats, “I’ll be home tomorrow. I’m gonna book a flight right now.”

“Liam, you don’t have to –”

“I miss you too, Z,” Liam cuts him off, and Zayn can picture him so easily. He’s probably sat on the edge of his bed, forearms resting on his knees, back curved like the weight of the world sits on his shoulders. Liam’s so strong, and moments like that – those precious few seconds where Liam lets Zayn see how tired he is – just further prove it. “If you need me to come home, I’ll come.”

He means it. Liam’s proven over and over that he’ll put Zayn first. It’s terrifying in the best way because Zayn does the same. So Zayn lets himself give in, just this once. He lets his metal walls crack, just enough to let Liam all the way in. “Come home.”

“See you tomorrow.” He swears he can hear Liam’s smile, and he buries his own in his pillow.

 ___

Zayn’s antsy in the airport, rocking back and forth on his feet. Liam sent him his flight information last night after they hung up, and Zayn’s not ashamed to admit he fell asleep cradling his phone. Last night he was wrapped up in sadness, the darkness dampening his mood, but now he’s hyperaware. His skin feels like its on fire, and he hasn’t even spotted Liam yet.

Preston looks at him with thinly veiled amusement. “He’s just landed. Give him a second to grab his things, Malik.”

“Shove it,” Zayn mutters, not meaning it in the least, and Preston breaks into a grin. It makes Zayn blush, just a bit, because he knows their security adores him and Liam and their relationship. They think he and Liam are cute or something, and Zayn admits that yeah okay sometimes they are, but he’s not being cute right now. He’s dying of impatience waiting for Liam.

He’s still needy, but in an entirely different way this morning. He just wants to see Liam, touch him, possibly blow him. He just _wants_ him already.

And like the world finally gives into what Zayn wants, Liam pushes through the doors to the private lounge in that moment.

“Liam.” It’s a sigh of relief, and the only warning Liam gets before Zayn’s on him. He slams into him, all sharp angles and a lack of grace. Liam stumbles a bit, hands automatically coming up to wrap around Zayn’s waist and stabilize them both. Zayn sinks into the hasty embrace, his own arms twining around Liam’s shoulders, fingers digging into his shirt.

“Zayn,” Liam smiles, but his eyes translate his concern. Zayn just shakes his head, leaning forward until he can rest his forehead against Liam’s. It’s a familiar position for them, a grounding one, and Zayn can feel himself settle, all that nervous energy dissolving in Liam’s calming sensation.

Letting his eyes slip closed, Zayn inhales, just breathing with Liam for a moment. “I missed you,” he admits, willing the words out because Liam deserves to know just how much he means them.

Liam melts underneath him, arms gripping tighter until there’s no space left between them. “Christ, me too,” he chuckles. “You have no idea, Zayn.”

Zayn makes an unhappy noise because he does have a pretty good idea actually, but he doesn’t say anything else. He shifts again, so his head slides down and he can bury his face in Liam’s neck. He presses his lips to Liam’s birthmark, not so much a kiss as just a point of contact. One of Liam’s hands slides up his back to press to the back of Zayn’s head, scratching at the shorn hair.

“This is new.”

“You knew about it.” Liam’s seen him, multiple times, over skype and such since he cut his hair and pierced his nose, but Zayn thinks he knows what Liam really means.

“Feels different,” Liam admits, rubbing his palm over the short bristles.

“Wanted a change.”

“I know, babe,” Liam sighs, and Zayn knows that he does. Nobody else can really understand, but Liam does. Liam always understands. Zayn presses his lips into a kiss in gratitude because some days he still can’t believe that Liam is his.

Liam lets him linger in the embrace for another moment before he pulls back, just enough to grin down at Zayn. It’s not his full, eye-crinkling grin, but a more relaxed version, one just for Zayn. “Louis’s pissed he doesn’t get to see you,” he comments, eyes sparkling with humor. “Wanted me to tell you that here are more members of your old band, you know.”

Zayn laughs, but his fingers wrap tightly in Liam’s shirt, unwilling to let him pull away further. Liam notices of course, and his brown eyes go soft.

Reaching around, he cradles Zayn’s jaw with gentle fingers, rubbing the scruff there. “Baby,” he whispers, just for them. “Jaan, I’m here. I’m right here.”

And Zayn breaks under the soft touch of Liam’s skin and his even softer voice. Slamming his lips onto Liam’s, Zayn doesn’t wait for Liam to feel his desperation before his lips are moving. He parts Liam’s mouth without hesitation, his tongue tracing Liam’s bottom lip where he’s got it trapped between his own. Liam makes a startled sound, but his hand slides from Zayn’s jaw to the back of his neck, tugging Zayn closer. His tongue darts out to slide against Zayn’s, and it’s frantic from there.

Zayn shoves up against Liam until he can feel every ridge of Liam’s body. The hand still fisted in Liam’s shirt flexes, his other hand sliding to just over Liam’s heartbeat, rejoicing in the pounding rhythm he can feel through his palm. Liam’s fingers dig in slightly as their legs slot more firmly together, perfectly aligned, and Zayn’s desperate to rub up against Liam. He thinks he might actually go ahead when Liam breaks the kiss.

Turning his head to the side slightly, Liam breathes deeply. A smile toys at the corners of his mouth, eyes alight again as he gazes fondly at Zayn. “You weren’t kidding. You did miss me.”

Zayn groans, pressing forward again, and kissing messily at Liam’s jaw. “Shut up.”

Liam laughs, and in retaliation, Zayn scrapes his teeth along his jawline. The hiss Liam releases isn’t one he normally makes in public, and Zayn’s cock twitches in interest. He rolls his hips, just slightly, to let Liam know. Liam sucks in a sharp gasp of air, eyes darkening, but he pulls further away. “Z, fuck,” he mutters. “We’re in public.”

“Don’t care,” Zayn shrugs.

Liam curses lowly, pressing one quick kiss to Zayn’s lips. He pulls back again before Zayn can press his advantage, tugging Zayn around until he’s tucked into Liam’s side. He’s moving forward before Zayn’s adjusted, causing him to stumble a bit over his feet.

“Liam,” Zayn whines, adjusting his hold on Liam so they can actually walk side by side.

“Sorry,” Liam wraps an arm around his shoulders. “Just – let’s get home, yeah?”

Zayn buries his smirk in Liam’s shoulder, but he’s sure Liam can feel it.

Preston holds open the door for them, face curiously blank as he hoists Liam’s bag. They walk out through back corridors, ending at a nondescript back exit, where the car’s already waiting. Liam guides Zayn in first, holding the door, and Zayn barely spares a glance back as he slides into the seat. Liam climbs in after, shutting the door and indicating that Preston intends to sit up front with the driver, and that’s all the invitation Zayn needs.

He slides into Liam’s lap before Liam even reaches for his seatbelt, straddling him shamelessly so his knees dig into the leather on either side of Liam’s hips.

Liam doesn’t even seem that surprised, though he immediately shoots a look up front towards the driver and Preston. “Zayn, they can –”

“Partition Liam,” Zayn commands, tugging Liam’s collar aside to suck a mark onto Liam’s shoulder. “Put up the fucking partition.”

Liam smacks the button to do so, and Zayn chuckles, grinding down as soon as he hears it snick into place.

“Want to blow you,” Zayn breathes, centimeters away from Liam’s slightly reddened lips. He darts his eyes up to Liam’s, intentionally grinding his ass down again. “Please, Li. Want your cock.”

Liam groans, throwing his head back. Zayn takes it as an invitation to mark up Liam’s throat. “Jesus Christ,” Liam mutters, unable to stop himself from shifting, and Zayn preens when he feels the hardening line of Liam’s cock. “Zayn, we’re going to be at my house in like thirty minutes.”

“Too long,” Zayn pulls back from Liam’s neck so Liam can see how absolutely serious he is about this. His dick is straining against the zipper of his trousers already, and he just wants to do something. “Want to get off. Or get you off. Fuck, Liam, I just want to feel you.”

Liam’s hips thrust upward, just the once, unbalancing Zayn. “Fuck, alright,” he mutters, hands moving to Zayn’s hips. Zayn grins, lifting up so he can kneel between Liam’s legs, but then Liam’s guiding him off to the side instead of towards the floor.

“Li –” he starts, but Liam cuts him off with a harsh kiss, nipping at his bottom lip as he pulls back. His eyes are dark, as he smirks up at Zayn.

“Don’t want you to blow me,” he admits, voice deeper like he’s finally as turned on as Zayn is. “I have a better idea.”

Zayn doesn’t know what the hell Liam could be talking about – Liam’s cock down his throat sounds amazing right now – but he follows the guidance of Liam’s hands without complaint. That is until Liam turns him so he’s facing the seat on his knees. It clicks the moment Liam’s large hand presses firmly into Zayn’s lower back, clearly wanting him to lean forward more.

“Fuck,” it’s a sharp hiss from his throat, and Zayn looks over his shoulder back at Liam as he places his hands on the cool leather of the back of the seat. “Really?”

Liam nods without hesitating. He’s shifting to the floor, hands skimming over Zayn’s hips and landing on the zip of his trousers. He tugs it down without warning, expertly undoing the button. “Want to,” he states, voice calm but rough. “Want to feel you come just from my mouth.”

Zayn shudders, spine arching automatically, like Liam’s already touching him. “Fuck,” he mutters, brain going fuzzy with arousal. Liam’s eaten him out before, but Christ, he never thought he’d do it in the back of a car. “Li, are you –” He’s cut off abruptly when Liam yanks his trousers down, snagging his pants too, so Zayn’s bare ass hits the open air. Zayn moans when Liam leaves his pants just below his ass, elastic digging in slightly. “Fuck, okay.”

“Spread your legs,” Liam commands, hands already digging into Zayn’s ass and spreading his cheeks. Zayn obeys without thought, straining against his trousers. His cock is still trapped inside the front of his pants, dampening the fabric with precome.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Liam breathes, and Zayn shivers because he can feel the air move, like Liam’s already close. His hole clenches around nothing, and Zayn’s grip on the seat tightens. He’s about to demand that Liam do something, when he feels Liam’s tongue. Liam licks a broad stripe over his hole, and Zayn gasps at the wet, rough drag on his sensitive skin.

“Fuck.” He lets his head drop onto the seat.

Liam chuckles, tongue darting out to press firmly against the tight ring of muscle. “Glad you thought ahead. Shit, you smell good, Zayn.”

Zayn makes an incomprehensible noise back as Liam continues licking over his hole. He alternates between short, kitten licks, and broad ones, driving Zayn insane because he never knows what to expect. He keens when Liam digs his tongue in, loosening Zayn until he can slip the tip of his tongue inside, screwing into Zayn.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Zayn chants. His spine arches, drying to drive Liam further in, but Liam backs off immediately. Zayn whines.

“Be good.”

“Liam.”

“Be good,” Liam repeats, spreading Zayn’s cheeks further apart. Zayn bites his lip and nods, giving in. Liam circles his rim with his tongue in reward, and Zayn sucks in a sharp breath. Liam’s tongue is hot, teasing pleasure. His breath sends chills up Zayn’s spine as he continues working Zayn open. When he fucks in, tongue a sharp point, Zayn thrusts back, unable to help it.

“Liam, please,” he begs, desperate for more. His cock is rubbing painfully against the material of his pants, and he wants to rub off against the seat, he’s so needy for more friction. Liam thrusts his tongue inside again, mouthing at the rim as he buries himself further into Zayn’s ass. Zayn nearly cries out at the sharp sting of Liam’s scruff, pressing back for the sharp pleasure. Liam rubs his face, like he knows what Zayn wants, and Zayn’s cock twitches.

“Fuck, babe,” Zayn gasps. “I need –” he goes to move forward so he can press against the seat, but Liam’s firm hand digging into his hip stops him.

“Don’t you dare,” Liam growls.

Zayn opens his mouth to beg because his dick is aching for relief, but then Liam’s hand presses hard into his length. Zayn’s head shoots up, neck arching as he presses forward into Liam’s palm. Liam kneads him as he continues thrusting his tongue in, and Zayn can’t figure out which he wants to press in more. He settles for rocking back and forth, whining when Liam pulls his tongue away, pressing a kiss to Zayn’s rim.

“Want you to come like this,” Liam breathes out, flexing his fingers around Zayn’s cock. “Just like this, babe. With my tongue in you and my hand on your dick.”

“Yes,” Zayn pants. “Just please –” he pushes back, wanting Liam’s mouth on him again.

“Be quiet though, yeah?” Liam requests, but he ducks back in before Zayn can respond. Dragging his tongue firmly over Zayn’s hole, Zayn wants to shout, and has to grind his teeth to keep it in.

“Fucking bastard,” he hisses when Liam does it again.

“Quiet,” Liam breathes. His tongue sharpens to a point, darting in, and Zayn fucks back onto it helplessly. His moans are choked as he tries to keep relatively silent, very aware of the two men in the front of the car. When Liam fists his dick through his pants though, it’s a lost cause.

Zayn throws his head back and whimpers, hips jerking into the contact. He’s suddenly right on the edge, Liam’s stubble scratching his sensitive skin as he relentless sucks at Zayn’s rim.

“Close,” he warns. Liam’s hand tightens in response, his palm firmly grinding down on Zayn’s length. He picks up the pace of his tongue, other hand clenching around Zayn’s hip to keep him from thrusting too hard. The clash of all three sensations erupts in Zayn’s mind, and his orgasm rips through him. Spurting come inside his pants, he whines when Liam’s tongue traces his rim once more before Liam pulls back.

He’s boneless as Liam pulls his trousers back up, slumped over the back of the seat and catching his breath. Liam slides back onto the seat and tugs insistently until Zayn turns and sprawls into his side, halfway on his lap. Liam chuckles lightly and runs one hand over Zayn’s scalp.

Zayn hums in satisfaction.

“Good?”

“Like you don’t know,” Zayn mutters, pressing a quick kiss to Liam’s collarbone over his shirt. His gaze snags on Liam’s crotch though, bulge obvious. He smirks and moves his hand over it, pressing down. Liam’s hitching breath makes him want to laugh. Looking up, he takes in the spit-shiny glaze on Liam’s lips, the flush on his cheeks. “You now?”

Liam shakes his head. “No, I think –”

A knock on the partition interrupts him.

“We’re here,” Liam finishes, flushing harder like he’s a bit embarrassed about their recent activities.

Zayn just shakes his head, still mystified by how Liam can go from demanding in bed to embarrassed about it two seconds later. He’d probably push it if he didn’t love it so much.

Liam goes to open the door as soon as the car rolls to a stop, but Zayn halts him with a hand in Liam’s hair. Liam blinks at him, confused, and Zayn smiles before leaning in and snogging him.

He attacks Liam’s mouth, tugging on his hair slightly as he presses against his side. The hand over Liam’s dick doesn’t move, though he doesn’t press down harder either. When he pulls back, Liam’s eyes are glazed again, and Zayn smiles in satisfaction.

Seeing his smile, Liam narrows his eyes a bit. “Yeah?”

Zayn raises his eyebrow at the light challenge in Liam’s voice. “Yeah,” he returns, letting smugness radiate from his voice.

Liam takes his mouth in a kiss again, pulling to the side when he breaks off to whisper directly in Zayn’s ear, “Inside. Now.”

Zayn groans, dick twitching again despite how recently he just got off.

Liam doesn’t look back as he gets out of the car, but as soon as Zayn steps out, he’s wrapping an arm around him again. Preston’s at the back of the car already, grabbing the suitcase, and Zayn’s not surprised when Liam takes it from him with a quick, “Thanks.”

Preston just laughs as Liam flushes. “Sure. Have fun, lads.”

“Oh we will,” Zayn promises, amused by Liam’s behavior.

Liam shoots him a glare as Preston gets back in the car. “Think you’re funny?”

Zayn faces him fully, tugging on Liam’s shirt until they’re pressed close once more. He lets his lips hover just millimeters from Liam’s. “Hilarious.”

Liam looks like he wants to argue, but his gaze snags on Zayn’s lips. Zayn slowly licks the corner of his mouth, eyeing Liam up with pure intent, and Liam groans.

“You’re fucking impossible,” he mutters, but he’s already shoving Zayn up towards the door. Zayn ends up pressed against it, pinned by Liam’s hips as Liam digs out his key.

“Hurry,” he urges, the buzz back in his veins. They’re so close, and he just wants Liam inside of him, all teasing forgotten.

Liam presses his hips forward harder instead of responding, and Zayn groans at the hard line of Liam’s cock against his hipbone. When the door swings open, Zayn yanks Liam with him, kissing him sloppily as they stumble through the doorway. Liam drops his suitcase, slamming the door closed before he wraps both hands around Zayn’s hips again.

It’s a mess of stumbling steps and discarded clothes between quick kisses from there, as Zayn strives to strip them both without stopping. He’s not even sure how they end up in Liam’s room, only aware they are when Liam grasps his thighs and slams him into the wall beside his door. Zayn gasps but wraps his legs around Liam’s hips, both blissfully naked already. Liam’s cock presses against the back of Zayn’s thigh, and he squirms, wanting it between his cheeks.

“Liam, c’mon.”

Liam just kisses him harder, rotating his hips and driving Zayn mad. His cock is trapped between them rapidly growing harder once more. His spine digs painfully into the wall, and he just wants Liam inside of him already.

“We need lube,” Liam manages, pulling back to dot Zayn’s shoulders with light kisses.

“Liam,” Zayn whines.

Liam shoots him a glare. “I’m not spit-fucking you the first time. Jesus. Just, come here. I’ve got – in the dresser.”

Zayn reluctantly lets Liam move away, dropping to his feet. He watches Liam walk over to his dresser, careless of his nudity. He can’t help but admire him. Liam’s all lean lines and surprising bulk. His back is a wide expanse of tan muscle, faint red lines already appearing from Zayn’s nails. He’s toned, dimples standing out just above his firm ass, thighs just as muscular as the rest of him. He’s beautiful.

With a groan, Zayn shoves off from the wall. Three steps and he’s plastering himself against Liam’s back. Liam makes a surprised noise that quickly morphs into a moan when Zayn fists his cock.

“Fuck, Zayn.”

“Lube?” Zayn asks, trying to stay focused. Liam feels so good against him like this, and if he wasn’t desperate to feel him inside, he’d fuck Liam instead.

Liam flips them, so quick that Zayn stumbles a bit. The smile that crosses Liam’s mouth is delighted, but Zayn only sees it for a second before Liam’s turning him again so his front is to the dresser, back facing Liam. He opens his mouth complain – because damn it he wants to _see_ Liam – but then he catches sight of the mirror.

He’s not proud of the high needy sound that leaves his throat when he takes in the image of himself and Liam, pressed together. It’s a clash of skin tones, harsh angles, and firm muscle. They don’t seem like they should fit together, but they do. Christ, they do. He presses harder back into Liam, mesmerized by how much bigger Liam looks like this. He dwarves Zayn’s frame, wide shoulders edging out from behind Zayn’s narrower frame. Zayn’s tattoos are stark against both their skin. Zayn traces their bodies from the bottom of the mirror where his cock is just barely in frame, to the top where Liam’s looking over his shoulder.

Liam catches Zayn’s eye in the mirror and smirks, dragging his hand up Zayn’s chest lightly. Zayn shudders into the touch, cock twitching when Liam barely brushes a nipple. “You look amazing babe,” Liam whispers in his ear.

Zayn’s eyes nearly roll back into his head when Liam’s teeth lightly graze his earlobe. He lets his head rest against Liam’s shoulder, too moved by the image of them pressed front to back. It’s too much, and he’s clinging to his control.

“Fuck, Liam,” he whimpers as Liam casually screws his cock into the back of Zayn’s thigh. “Get on with it already.”

“Working on it.” Sure enough, Zayn hears the snap of the lube bottle, indicating that Liam’s been busy while Zayn was distracted. “Open your eyes, jaan.”

Zayn forces himself to face the mirror again, just as taken with the image as before. Now Liam’s staring at him though, a determined set to his features that immediately makes Zayn feel warm. When Liam’s finger traces the line of Zayn’s ass, he watches his own eyelashes flutter, watches the way Liam’s mouth parts to release a slow breath of air. He’s drawn to the flex of Liam’s forearm in the mirror, so entranced he’s taken by surprise when Liam’s finger breaches his hole.

“Oh,” he gasps, watching the way his pupils dilate in the mirror. Liam turns his head to the side, showing off his profile as he nuzzles just underneath Zayn’s jaw. His finger draws in and out slower, testing how loose Zayn is from the car.

“Next time,” Liam whispers, lips grazing Zayn’s cheek. “I’m going to fuck you slow, gentle. I’m going to make you ache with it, like I ached missing you. It’s going to be good, so damn good Zayn.”

Zayn struggles to draw air, trying to control every flicker of his reaction because he can see it now. He can see clearly how undone he is by Liam’s words. “And this time?” he finally manages.

Liam smirks, nosing back along Zayn’s jaw. The sudden bite of his teeth to the edge of Zayn’s jaw makes him hiss. “This time I’m going to fuck you hard. Gonna shove my cock in you until you’re pressed against the edge of this dresser. Want your hands on the wood as I drive into you, and I want you to watch. Keep your eyes on us yeah? Want you to see what you look like when we fuck like this.”

_Fucking hell._

Zayn can’t even formulate a response to that, he’s so turned on. Liam’s fucked him hard before, but he’s never watched. He can’t remember ever watching himself get off. It’s strangely erotic, making his cock strain upward against his abdomen.

Liam’s eyes snag his in the mirror again. “Like that?”

Zayn just nods.

“Good.”

Liam shoves a second finger in with no warning, and Zayn snaps forward, bending at the waist as he gasps. “Hands on the dresser,” Liam commands.

Zayn scrabbles to brace himself, palms slapping the wood harshly. He’s much closer to the mirror now, breath fogging the glass as he inhales sharply. Liam’s pumping relentlessly into him, eyes turned down and watching. Zayn can see him just over his shoulder in their reflection, the way Liam bites at his bottom lip, the way his other hands curls possessively around Zayn’s hip and digs in. He’s going to have bruises in the shape of Liam’s fingertips tomorrow.

A moan startles out of Zayn’s mouth when Liam crooks his fingers, rubbing right along his prostate. He thinks he feels three fingers now, uncertain when Liam added the third. Liam’s endlessly pushing him farther, and he’s struggling to stay focused. There’s too much for him to look at that, and he’s torn between watching and concentrating on the sensations.

He notices immediately though when Liam pulls his fingers out. Their eyes connect in the mirror, and Liam lines himself up slowly. Zayn feels like he’s on fire under Liam’s gaze, refusing to look away. The head of Liam’s cock nudges just inside his hole, and Zayn’s eyes nearly flutter closed at the burning stretch. It feels so good; he’s missed this much.

Struggling to keep his eyes open, Zayn stares at Liam as he pushes in, smooth and slow. When he bottoms out, Zayn’s gasping in air, every sensation seemingly amplified.

“Beautiful,” Liam murmurs, stretching forward so his front covers Zayn’s back again. The angle changes, and Zayn whimpers as Liam brushes against his prostate. “So gorgeous. So good for me, babe.”

Zayn bites into his bottom lip so hard he can taste blood. Liam’s hand comes up, cupping Zayn’s chin and tugging his lip loose gently.

“Ready?” Liam asks.

“Please,” Zayn whines. “Please fuck me, Liam. Want to feel you.”

Liam draws back and fucks in hard, slamming his hips against Zayn’s ass. The motion knocks Zayn forward, his cock trapped against the wood. He whimpers, and Liam moans.

“Harder,” Zayn pleads. “Faster. Liam please.”

Liam just nods, eyes still fixed on Zayn’s. When he draws his hips back this time, he doesn’t even pause before thrusting in again. He picks up a fast rhythm, driving deep with every thrust. Zayn arches into, nearly on his toes as he tries to drive himself back. He meets Liam’s thrusts as best as he can, using his arms to hold himself up. His own muscles flex in their reflection, keeping time with the flexing of Liam’s muscles as they work towards their orgasms.

Zayn’s losing his mind, thoughts everywhere as he watches. He’s already really fucking close, and he’s a bit delirious with it all.

When Liam’s hand trails down, hooking under Zayn’s arm and grasping his chest, Zayn goes willingly as Liam heaves him up. His hands plant themselves on the mirror now, Liam’s front pressed tight to his back, and the angle changes again. Liam’s getting impossibly deeper now, rhythm not even hitching as he holds Zayn to him, arm massive against Zayn’s torso. He’s cradled in Liam’s hold, completely under Liam’s control, and he looks impossibly small in their reflection.

Zayn keens when Liam hits his prostate and then stays there, grinding down hard, until Zayn can’t keep his eyes open anymore. His eyes roll back, lashes fluttering as he’s overwhelmed. Liam’s chanting his name, but Zayn’s silent. He can’t form a single word as his hips slap repeatedly into the dresser, and he’s going to be so sore tomorrow, but it’s so worth it. He can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t do anything but focus on the pleasure Liam’s giving him.

When his orgasm comes, it’s overwhelming. It slams into him, waves of bliss, until he’s a shuddering mess. His fingers scratch uselessly at the mirror, unable to find a grip, but Liam keeps him stable. Liam’s arm flexes hard against his chest, and Zayn realizes that Liam’s close.

“C’mon,” he mutters, voice raspy and worn like Liam’s just fucked his throat. He clenches around Liam and is rewarded with a moan right beside his ear. Liam buries his face in the juncture of Zayn’s neck and shoulder, biting down hard as he comes.

Zayn moans again at the feeling of Liam’s come filling him up, and when Liam lets him go, he slumps forward over the dresser. The wood is cool against his flushed chest and the side of his face. Zayn focuses on breathing when Liam pulls out, hating the loss but unable to articulate that yet. He hears Liam walk away and then walk back. He only jumps slightly at the rough drag of the washcloth over the back of his thighs.

“Sorry,” Liam mutters, voice just as rough as Zayn’s. “Turn over for me, babe.”

Zayn does so slowly, leaning heavily against the dresser. His legs feel shaky, and he’s still not entirely coherent. Liam steps into his space, feet casing Zayn’s in. He smiles slightly when Zayn leans further into him, resting his head in the center of Liam’s chest.

“So you liked it then?” he asks, smile so obvious in his voice. “The mirror thing? I wasn’t sure if you’d get off on it.”

Zayn scoffs. “Did you like it?”

Liam shrugs easily. “Knew I liked watching before, just never really thought about watching us. Glad I did though.”

“Me too,” Zayn sighs.

Liam laughs lightly and tosses the rag away. His arms come around Zayn in a loose hold, just keeping them close. His fingers trace up and down Zayn’s spine carefully. Zayn melts into it. He loves this part. Whenever Liam’s rough with him during, he’s always so gentle after.  

“Shower,” Liam suggests after a moment.

Zayn just groans. “Carry me?”

“Absolutely not,” Liam chuckles, guiding Zayn away so they can look at each other. Zayn pouts at him. “Come on,” Liam rolls his eyes. “I’ll wash us, and then we can crawl into bed.”

“And not leave for at least four days?” Zayn asks hopefully.

Liam grins, pressing a quick kiss lightly to Zayn’s lips. “Sure, babe.”

 ___

Liam does wash him in the shower, running his hands lightly over every inch of Zayn’s skin. Zayn lets him do what he wants, closing his eyes and enjoying it. He smiles tiredly when Liam lingers on his newest tattoo; it’s healed now, not like the last time Liam saw it. When Liam presses a kiss to it, ducking down to do so, Zayn runs his hands through Liam’s hair. They stare silently at each other for a moment afterward, and then Liam straightens again. He tugs Zayn’s hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the ring there.

“Liam.” Zayn’s overwhelmed with affection suddenly, aching with how much he loves this boy in front of him. He still can’t believe sometimes that Liam actually asked, that they’re going to get married. They have days now, weeks together, where they can just be. Liam leaving again hovers like a dark cloud on the horizon, but Zayn pushes that thought away. Liam is his. That’s all that matters. Liam is his, and he’s here for now.

Liam grins, turning Zayn’s hand over and pressing another light kiss to the center of his palm. “I think I should probably get one too, a ring. Not the nose piercing.”

Zayn grins. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. For the tour y’know? I hate not having something to wear and remind me of you.”

Zayn’s heart thrums in his chest. “Sap.”

“You love it.”

“I love you.”

Liam’s smile is breathtaking. “I love you too.”

___

They fall into bed afterwards, and Zayn’s quick to prod Liam onto his back so he can sprawl over Liam’s chest. He’s missed this – just the sound of Liam’s heartbeat under his ear, the feeling of Liam’s skin against his.

Liam takes to tracing lightly against Zayn’s lower back, and Zayn’s drifting off to sleep when he says, “Hey Zayn?”

“Hmmm?” Zayn’s almost asleep, lulled into unconsciousness by the familiar feeling of Liam underneath him. He’s so content, completely happy in a way he hasn’t been in months.

“Marry me?”

Zayn frowns, confused for a moment, before he feels Liam shake slightly with laughter underneath him. He slaps lightly at his chest. “You’re dumb.”

“Does that mean you won’t marry me?”

With a groan Zayn props himself up on Liam’s chest, glaring down at the boy feigning innocence below him. “Liam James Payne, we’re getting married in less than two months.”

Liam lights up at that. “Yeah we are.”

Zayn cocks an unimpressed eyebrow. “Did you seriously just want me to say it?”

The shrug Liam gives is careless, but the kiss he presses to Zayn’s bare shoulder is sweet, so with a huff Zayn settles back down, cushioning his head on Liam’s chest once more.

“Husband,” Liam says eventually, the word rolling off his tongue experimentally. “I think it sounds better than boyfriend or fiancé. My husband.”

Zayn lifts his head up again, shifting suddenly so he’s firmly on top of Liam now.

Liam’s eyes widen. “Zayn, what –”

Zayn cuts him off with a kiss that he means to be chaste but that ends up long and drawn out. When he pulls back, he’s grinning.

“What was that for?” Liam asks.

“Can’t go to sleep now, can I?” Zayn teases. “Not when you’re calling me husband.”

Liam still looks confused, so Zayn rolls his hips lightly. Liam’s eyes widen and then he smirks when he feels Zayn’s hard cock against him. He shifts, legs falling open so Zayn can slip between them. It lines them up perfectly, and Liam’s smile is far from innocent now.

“Husband, huh?” he questions. Zayn hums, leaning down to kiss Liam’s chest. “Guess I should call you that more often.”

“Guess you should.”


End file.
